


The Lady Next Door

by OddEyeVibes



Series: Vercetti Family Business [1]
Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto: Vice City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Self-Indulgent, Yandere-ish OC, medium titty goth gf???, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:00:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OddEyeVibes/pseuds/OddEyeVibes
Summary: The Ocean View was a nice place for Tommy to settle down after the effects that transpired. Even his new hotel neighbor was nice to look at. He feels like he's seeing her face a lot though and considering he's looking for the guys that stole the money and drugs AND tried to kill him, that might not be a good thing.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Tommy Vercetti/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Vercetti Family Business [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011846
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. The Theatrics of It All

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not sugarcoating it, it’s been a rough 2020 and I’m exhausted at this point. It’s like every month it's something new. I’m sure next month we’re either getting titans or homicidal androids and at this point, I’d welcome it. 
> 
> I’m apologizing in advance if certain things seem off (no, I’m not sure how) but originally, I had planned on this being a prequel to a different story but then I was getting too invested in the older GTA games to be focused on writing something for GTA V. 
> 
> This is no slow burn-ish type story because I feel like the main storyline is a bit too short for that without adding a bunch of extra stuff to keep prolonging it for the sake of slow-burning. Tommy and Dallas (oc) will be smitten from the get-go.

_|Prickle Pine, Las Venturas|_

_|1986|_

Most people in Prickle Pine always associated with people their neighbors have never seen. This is usually where the rich elites always found hanging out in the Strip lived anyway. So some old couple with nothing better to do but to people-watch probably wouldn’t be calling the authorities any time soon on seeing strange people come out of different houses every day of the week because it was too natural at this point. 

So when a midnight blue Sentinel XS pulled up to the Michaels house. No people-watchers thought it was too suspect to see them get a wealthy-looking visitor. The front door opened revealing a man in a faded red and white striped bathrobe known as Bane Michaels. A middle-aged white man who made an infamous name for himself by helping produce some of those pornographic, action-oriented movies the porn industry has ever seen. 

He was regular on The Strip and many of his more prudish neighbors came to know him for always having younger women visit while his much more older wife, went off to the hospital for treatment. People watchers merely thought it was another one of _those_ visits. 

Bane stood in the doorway a jittery mess as the driver of the Sentinel stepped out of the vehicle. By the look of her outfit, you’d be forgiven for thinking this was a woman whose husband died in “mysterious” circumstances. She was wearing a black pencil dress with a pair of black peep-toe wedges along with some thick-rimmed black sunglasses and a black shoulder purse to make the outfit look a little more perfect. For Bane, she was like an angel of death walking towards his door. This was the woman that would help solve his problems. 

“Well...don’t you look excited to see me.” She commented. 

Bane moved aside and let her into the house, immediately locking the door and showing her to the spacious living room which looked like it never left the 60s. It didn’t help that there was a TV playing an old sitcom of that era. 

The woman sat down on one of the single-seated couches across from Bane who relaxed as he sat down, waiting for the good news. “Well?” 

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that you are now a widow, Mr. Michaels.” 

Bane’s smile grew wide. “Hahaha! Thank you! Thank you SO much!” The man quickly stood up, grabbing the woman’s hand and shaking it frantically, much to the woman’s clear disdain. She yanked her hand out of his grasp. The man took the hint and sat back down. “Y’know, I heard about you from Carlos. I was so sure he was going to do the job until he recommended you.” 

The woman shrugged. “Carlos got wrapped up in a more steady gig.” 

Bane took the hint and nodded. “Once the life insurance comes through, I promise you, you’ll get your money. Never done something like this before so I’m not quite sure how long it’ll take.” 

“Well, I have. Just make sure you don’t say or do anything stupid and suspicious. Remember, when the hospital calls, you don’t know she’s dead.” The way the woman spoke held an air of both sultriness and coldness. Bane was definitely talking to someone who has experience. “Unless they called already and you messed it up.” 

Bane shook his head. “Nope, no call yet. Why don’t we…” Bane scooted forward a bit and flashed the woman a smirk. “Maybe we can wait together?” He asked. 

The woman tilted her head to the side. “Are you trying to flirt with me?” She asked with a blunt tone of voice. There was no hint of reciprocation in her words. 

Bane shrugged. “Well,” He casually leaned back against the seat. “I am a single man after all.” 

“You’re wife’s body not even if a coffin yet.” 

“That old broad’s been dead for years. Shame though...she was a real cougar, that one. It was fun running around with an older woman. Especially, when they’re loaded. The probably is, what we men want from an older woman gets lost REAL fast when age starts catching up with them.” He continued going on. “Tits start sagging, they need every pill in the fucking book to keep functioning, hair starts going gray, y’know?” He asked with a chuckle, but the woman didn’t respond. Once he realized she wasn’t going to laugh, he sighed and kept going. “Only reason I stayed with her was because of the money. Porn is nice and all but I wanted to do more. I wanna be big but in this city, you gotta pay big to win big, y’know? Edie, love her to death, but she wasn’t going to understand what I needed. I couldn’t let her divorce me either, she’d take her money and run, leaving me with nothing.” 

“So you plan to find some young girl?” 

He nodded. “Unless you’re willing to fill the position?” 

“No.” 

Bane chuckled. “Worth a shot.” The brown-haired man stood up and went over to a brown foyer table holding a variety of liquor bottles as well as a couple of whiskey glasses. He proceeded to pour himself a glass as the nearby landline phone began ringing. A smirk on his face, Bane waltz over to answer, prepared to pretend to be heartbroken. 

“Michaels Residence, Bane speaking.” 

“.....Michaels Residence?” The evil smirk on Bane’s face slowly disappeared. The man glanced back to the woman sitting on his couch. She was currently paying him no mind as she watched the silent erratic movements of the sitcom still playing. He turned his back towards her and continued the conversation. “Edie?” He asked in a terrified whisper. 

“I’m not even in the dirt yet and you’ve already claimed my house?” The older woman said and the smile could be heard in her voice. Bane didn’t say anything in response. “What? No funny remark? You used to be made of them, Baney.” 

“You’re alive?” He whispered, not wanting to alert the woman behind him since he planned on giving her a piece of his mind.

“Of course I am. You tried to pay for the Montoya’s to kill me using life insurance? I got something more reliable...an owed favor.” There was so much vile as she said the last part of her sentence. 

_PHT!_

If the walls had eyes, they would be covered in the blood that quickly shot out of Bane’s forehead. With the little thinking energy he had left, the man’s eyes had shot up to try and catch a glimpse of the hole in his head. In a second, his body fell forward, colliding with the wall and crashing down on the table, knocking over the different bottles and sending them to the floor with a series of loud crashes as the phone in his hand was let go and fell in one of the puddles that began soaking the ugly colored carpet. 

Turning his back to the woman proved to be a fatal mistake. His last mistake. Once he did, she had quietly made her way over to him, calmly pulling out a suppressed .22 pistol and waited for her moment to pull the trigger. 

The woman flashed a satisfied smirk as she put away her gun before bending down to pick up the phone. “Ms. Rubio?” 

“I wish I could’ve been there to see the look on his face.” The older woman sounded more than happy with the outcome. 

“Well, he was very scared if that makes you feel better.” 

“I suppose that’ll do.” 

“You never told my cousin what you wanted in terms of body disposal.” 

“I have some guys of my own. I want to see what’s left of the fucker. If it wasn’t for MY money, that ingrate wouldn’t have what we had now. To think that son of a bitch was plotting to kill me.” 

“Small world though.” 

“Indeed. When are you and your cousin leaving Las Venturas?” 

“Should be by the end of this week.” 

“Should have your money by then.” 

“No need. This is a favor, remember?” 

“I always tip.” The line went dead. 

The woman shrugged and hung up the phone. She took a long look at the corpse before letting out a single chuckle and leaving the residence, locking the bottom lock behind her. As far as the neighbors knew, the woman in black that left Eden Rubio’s house was another young fling of Bane’s. 

**_()-()-()-()-()_ **

_|Several days later|_

_|Portland, Liberty City|_

_|Marco’s Bistro|_

“Tommy Vercetti? Shit...didn’t think they ever let him out.” 

Sonny Forelli had a loud voice. Everyone in the Forelli family knew that. Hell, everyone in the families knew that. It wasn’t a voice that commanded respect but one that wanted fear. The Don of the Forelli family reveled in the fact that others feared him and if he felt someone didn’t fear him, he would take care of them. The idea of catching more bees with honey was a concept lost this Forelli man. He was a man-sized brat but no one in the Forelli Family would call him out on it. 

The Don was currently sitting in his brother’s bistro alongside two associates, Casio Graci and Vincent Moreno, who had informed the man that Tommy Vercetti was officially let out of prison. The man that was now known as the ‘Harwood Butcher’ was sentenced away fifteen years ago on 11 counts of manslaughter. The thing is: he was only supposed to kill one guy. 

No one besides Sonny knows the specifics of what happened and how a simple hit by a Forelli mobster turned into a bloodbath. It worked out though for the Forelli family’s reputation among the families. If someone like Tommy Vercetti was working for the Forellis, the other families kept their ears perked for any more Forelli men. Sonny didn’t like to admit it, but Tommy helped him...again. 

Only a few men in the family knew this, but Sonny despised Tommy’s very existence. No one was dumb enough to comment on it though, out of fear of Sonny’s wrath. No one knew the specifics of it but it was clearly some sort of paranoia. The thought that everyone would look at Tommy the way they SHOULD’VE been looking at Sonny. There were some outside of Sonny’s close circle that had ideas but they were thrown out of the window upon hearing Sonny and the Forellis kept Vercetti from getting the death penalty. 

“He kept his head down,” Casio explained. “It helps people forget.” 

Sonny chuckled. “People will remember soon enough. When they see him walking down the streets of their neighborhood, it’ll be bad for business.” 

The two associates glanced between each other with worried expressions. Cutting Tommy loose was probably not the best idea cause then one of the other families might take him in. Can’t have a hitman like Tommy working the Sindacos, the Sicilians, or the Leones. Definitely not the Leones. 

Casio looked at Sonny. “Well, what are we gonna do Sonny?” 

The Don sat back in chair thinking for a moment. Truth be told, Sonny didn’t want Tommy anywhere near him. He didn’t want him asking too many questions upon returning. Fifteen years? Vercetti was definitely simmering with curiosity. “Alright,” He leaned in towards the table, his face illuminating a bit more under the green light. His gesture causing the others to do the same. “We treat’im like an old friend and keep him busy out of town, ok?” 

The two looked confused. 

Sonny leaned back in his seat once more. “We been talking about expanding down south, right? Vice City is 24-Carat gold these days. The Columbians, the Mexicans, hell, even those Cuban refugees are cutting themselves a piece of some nice action.” 

Vincent shook his head. “But it’s all drugs, Sonny. None of the families will touch that shit.”

The only reason Vice City had become a gold mind was because of drugs. Not just any drugs but the classic white girl, Cocaine. Most of the Italian mob stationed in Liberty City didn’t go anywhere near drugs. The most they dealt with being weed. Florida, Vice City, in particular, was a place where cocaine was becoming the wave. As of now, it was unknown territory to the families. 

“Times are changing. The families can’t keep their backs turned while our enemies reap the rewards. So, we send someone down to do the dirty work for us and cut ourselves a nice quiet slice, ok?” He explained. Sonny looked over to Casio, “who’s our contact down there?” 

“Ken Rosenberg,” Casio replied with an eye roll. “Schmuck of a lawyer. How’s he gonna hold Vercetti’s leash?” 

“We don’t need him to. We just set him loose in Vice City, we give him a little cash to get started. Ok? Give it a few months,” Sonny relaxed in his chair. “Then we go down, pay him a little visit, okay? See how he's doing.” 

**_()-()-()-()-()_ **

| _Escobar International|_

_|Vice City|_

Tommy’s been down south maybe like...once. It was only a business trip and he’d stood in as one of Sonny’s bodyguards. The was fifteen years ago back in 1970 and he knew the city had probably changed a lot since then. The man wasn’t someone _into_ the latest trends but still, the thought of missing out on a whole decade did something to him mentally. After all, he was barely an adult when he got locked up but hand the bodies of professionals that’s been in the game long before his birth. 

Tommy thought about a lot while on the inside. He was grateful for the Forellis for keeping him off death row, he really was, but he was also suspicious of the events in Harwood. Unfortunately, Tommy would have to keep his questions to himself since the first thing that happened upon being released from prison was him being sent to Vice City. 

Now instead of killing men left and right which, granted, he may have to do anyway, Tommy was meant to simply help the Forellis make some deals down south. Setting themselves up amidst all the other gangs that have claimed territory in the city. 

He didn’t really know what his face looked like but it apparently caught Lee’s attention. “Don’t be so nervous Vercetti,” Lee advised, catching the man’s attention from watching the plane land through its window. “Harry and I have done deals like this before. Simple procedure, go in and out, hasn’t changed since you’ve been locked up.” 

Tommy felt annoyed. “I know how these things work.” He shot back with a mild attitude. 

Lee didn’t say anything or indicated that he was offended at the response, merely shrugged and went back to reading the magazine. “ _Big Shot Porn Producer Reported Dead...robbery gone wrong?_ ” The man muttered. 

Tommy turned his attention back to the window, trying to get back on his previous train of thought. 

**()-()-()**

The air in Vice City was most certainly dry. Tommy almost felt sorry for anyone who didn’t dress down enough. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the bugs here were plenty and HUGE. The worst he dealt with in Liberty City were big ass rats and roaches and flies if a place was filthy enough. Here, the bugs have 34 wings and are always out to cross boundaries. Tommy wished he could’ve stayed inside the airport where the air was cool and the bugs were kept at bay. 

But the sight of a white Admiral pulling up provided some quick relief. Though, the appearance of a frantic, curly-haired man in a white suit sort of dimmed in down. He never met Rosenberg but from what Casio and some of the others told him, Rosenberg was easily startled, like a lamb. 

The car stopped before the three men and Ken got out, leaning on top of the car’s roof to greet the men. “Hey, hey, guys! It’s, uh, Ken Rosenberg here!” The man shouted. “Hey! Heh, heh, hey, great, hey!” 

‘I hate this guy already.’ Tommy thought to himself. 

He and the others not replying sent a chill down Ken’s spine, making the neurotic man even more nervous. The Forelli lawyer let out a nervous chuckle. “Well, uh, I’m gonna drive you guys to the meet, ok?” The three nodded and began entering the car, Tommy found himself situated in the back sitting next to Lee once again. Meanwhile, Rosenberg kept explaining the whole deal. “Now, I’ve talked to the suppliers and they’re very keen to start a business relationship, so, uh, if all goes well, we should, uh, be doing very nicely for ourselves, which is, y’know, good.” 

With everyone situated in the vehicle, Ken began driving and explained the whole all the way to the docks about the sellers they’ll be purchasing from. Tommy wasn’t too bothered to make any type of comment or even inquire more about, a tiny part hoping Lee or Harry would do that for him, especially Harry, considering that he was the one sitting next to Ken and getting the most of the yammering. To no avail though. 

The now 35-year-old let out a silent, annoyed breath as he looked out the window watching his new residence for the new months pass by him in a blur. This would all look nice to gander at if he wasn’t on business. ‘Maybe some other time…’ he thought. For now...just get the deal done was all that was on his mind. 

**()-()-()-()**

| _Vice City Docks_ | 

Upon the vehicle pulling up to the docks, Tommy was a little on edge. Maybe it was because, in Liberty City, every hour was working hours, he assumed that the docks would be filled with workers paid to mind their own business with maybe one or two ‘ _upstanding citizens_ ’ trying to play the hero. 

However, the Vice City docks were damn near-deserted. No sign of anyone clocking in. Maybe the people they were selling to had _those_ types of connections. To make a bunch of construction workers disappear with a snap of their fingers. But, since they weren’t already here, Tommy kind of tossed out that line of thinking. 

The sound of a helicopter getting louder caught the attention of the four men in the car. Shaking off the jetlag and gaining their full attention. 

“Ok, that’s them in the chopper,” Ken stated. “Ok, here’s the deal,” Harry and Lee began exiting the car while Tommy stayed to hear the rest of the stipulations. “They want a straight exchange on open ground. Alright?” 

Tommy nodded, “Right.”, before exiting the car and walking with the other two Forelli men. Meanwhile, one of the dealers, a slightly overweight dark-skinned man wearing a red shirt holding two briefcases, no doubt the product, exited the chopper while his pilot waited and made his way over to meet Tommy and the others. 

Once all four had come face to face the deal started. Tommy’s done these before. It was nothing new and nothing had changed. In and out. Get this over with and once all is said and done, focus on finding out what happened back in Hardwood. This is was the only reason Tommy didn’t make a fuss about immediately being put back to work upon being released. He wanted to ease everyone else who worked with him in order to get them talking. A good 20 minutes and he can get to work.

“You got it?” He asked the man in the red shirt. 

The man smirked. From the demeanor, Tommy could tell that this man was someone who didn’t take nonsense much like him. “One hundred percent pure grade-A Columbian.” The man replied, placing the two silver cases before the trio. 

Tommy gestured his head towards the cases. “Let me see’em.” 

The man stopped for a second, looking up at Tommy. “The greens?” 

Harry and Lee opened the cases they were holding, showcasing the money. “Tens and twenties,” Tommy replied, “used.” 

The man nodded with a smirk, straightening up his posture. “Then I think we got a deal, my friend. Hahaha--” 

They only needed a few more minutes to get this deal done but life showed that it had other plans when the sound of multiple gunshots rang out across the docks. 

Tommy instinctively ducked as the bodies of both Harry, Lee, and most likely the man in the red shirt. The guy in the copter most likely lifted off and got the hell out of dodge. 

That left Tommy to sprint like the wind towards Rosenberg’s car. Taking the phrase ‘leap of faith’ to a literal level when he vaulted through the open window of the backseat. Rosenberg peeled out as Tommy shouted for him to get out there. 

Just like fifteen years ago, a ‘simple’ job went terrible in an instant. Between the adrenaline rush of the shootout and the deja vu from back then, the escape from the stocks turned out to be a blurry one for Tommy Vercetti. 

The only words that came to his mind were ‘ah shit’ as Rosenberg frantically whimpered in the front seat.


	2. An Ocean's View (....IDFK)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two special people check into the Ocean View Hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously: While a “big shot” porn producer is killed, a cocaine deal goes wrong in Vice City.   
> I DO NOT OWN VICE CITY OR ANY OF ROCK*’s CHARACTERS, I ONLY OWN MY OCs

The rush and high of what went down earlier was finally beginning to fade. Well...for Tommy anyway. Ken was chattering on here and there but the sentences were too broken for Tommy to pay attention. The mobster was just letting the bright lights of Vice City calm him down. 

“I poke my head outta the gutter for one freakin’ second and fate shovels SHIT in my face!” Ken cried as he pulled up to park his car in the alleyway next to his office. 

The sound of a coherent sentence brought Tommy out of his daze. He didn’t really have a response. “Just go get some sleep.” 

Ken looked at the backseat, sweating glistening his forehead. “What’re you gonna do?” 

Tommy shrugged, “I’ll drop by your office tomorrow and we can start sorting this mess out.” Ken rapidly nodded before hopping out of the car and making a break for his office, presumably to lock himself in there for the night. 

Tommy sighed as he stepped out of the car. The Vice City days were hot and dry and while the nights were no better, at least there was a slight breeze coming back every so often. It helped bring the blood pressure down. 

Tomorrow, he was going to come back here and start on figuring out what the hell went wrong, as well as letting Sonny know that not only did the deal go bad but that Harry and Lee are also dead. Knowing Sonny’s short temper, the conversation was going to get violent but being a friend from childhood, Tommy already knew that. 

However, tonight? Tonight, Tommy was going to find a hotel and get some sleep. Given everything that transpired today, there was no way he was going to be tossing and turning tonight. He’ll sleep like a baby. First, though, he had to find somewhere to sleep. 

**()-()-()-()-()**

| _ Ocean View Hotel _ | 

The Ocean View Hotel was no five-star resort but for most people, it got the job done. Most tourists either came for the beaches or the get a taste of the nightlife and it just so happened that the Ocean View had close access to both and for a fair enough price.

A midnight blue Sentinel XS pulled up, double parking in front of the hotel. Inside the car were two people. The driver, one Carlito Montoya was light brown skin middle age Cuban man with slicked-back black hair, and a Chevron mustache adorning is his chiseled face. The man was dressed in a fine tailored black suit with a red button-up shirt underneath. The man looked like a model and no one would ever be able to tell he did any other profession. 

The other person in the car, Carlito’s slightly younger cousin, was Dallas Montoya. A dark skin Afro-Cuban woman with finger waves dyed blonde. She was wearing a dark blue hoodie with a pair of black sweat shorts and a clean white pair of tennis shoes. Clearly, she was dressed comfortably for the flight here. Resting on the top of her head was a pair of black-rimmed sunglasses. 

“Alright, here we are. Ocean View Hotel! It should hold you up for the next couple of days until I get this deal done.” 

“Since when have we had to fly out anywhere before being given a job?” Dallas asked with a tired tone in her voice, getting herself situated to hop out the car, grabbing her grey tote bag from the floor. 

“Times are changing, Little Dallas,” Both left the car and went towards the trunk. “Momma’s thinking of setting up shop here...least for a few months. Vice City’s becoming a hot spot of criminal activity, there’s always someone who wants someone dead.” 

“And we’d be fools to not take advantage, huh?” Dallas finished for him with a knowing smirk. 

Carlito nodded. “Exactly.” 

The older Montoya handed Dallas her white suitcase and navy blue duffle bag. Dallas gave a flat smile as she took the bags and headed towards the step of the hotel. Upon reaching the top of the steps, the sound of a door shutting caught her attention. 

She turned to see Carlito hopping back into the driver’s seat of her car. She looked at him confused, “You ain’t coming?” 

“Nah…” Carlito had a cocky smile. “I’ve got to meet an old girlfriend.” 

Dallas rolled her eyes and waved him away, heading into the hotel as the car drove off. The inside of the hotel was a pretty sight. With the marble floors alongside the nicely set dining area and with the window giving a lovely view of the beach, this was the perfect place to just sit and unwind, especially with the sounds of merengue playing softly throughout the room. 

The blonde approached the front desk and rang the bell. Not too long afterward, an elderly woman stepped out of the backroom and slowly made her way towards the desk. “How many nights?” There was a thick Cuban accent to her words. 

“ _ How much for a week? _ ” 

The woman had seemingly been caught off guard. “ _ A week? _ ” The elder woman stretched her back as she thought. “ _ Around $600 for a normal room. Suites around $1200? _ ” 

Dallas thought on it. ‘Probably wouldn’t be wise to go all out until we figure out if we’re staying or not.’ She nodded. “ _ I’ll take a normal room _ .” 

The older woman nodded and flashed a customer service smile. “ _ Let me go back and get a room key for you. I have to call upstairs, make sure the room is clean too. _ ” 

As the woman returned to the backroom, Dallas leaned against the desk and waited for her return. Meanwhile, outside a yellow taxi pulled up to the front of the hotel. Tommy, exhausted from today’s events paid the driver along with a ‘thanks’ before heading into the building. 

Since he didn’t know much about this city yet, he left it to the cabbie to take him to a nice hotel. Nothing too fancy and nothing that looked like it should’ve been condemned years ago. It’s safe to say, the mobster was pleased with the result. He still had some money on him from Sonny. It was meant for him, Harry, and Lee to keep themselves held over until money from the drugs started pouring in. It should be enough for him to get a room for a week or so. 

Upon entering the hotel, he was greeted to the sight of an attractive woman bent over the front desk, no doubt waiting for service. The woman took notice of him and offered him a smirk before going back to admiring the pictures posted up on the walls. 

‘Guess the place ain’t all bad.’ He thought to himself. 

The shuffling of feet caught his attention as an elderly woman came out with a key in hand. “ _ Alright dearie, here you go. The room’s all cleaned up for you. If you need anything, just let me know. Especially if something’s broken then I’ll get my son to fix it for you. He’ll always get it done faster for pretty girls, he’s useless that way. _ ” 

Both of the women giggled as Dallas took the key from the woman. The blonde grabbed her bags from the floor, shooting Tommy and wink before heading upstairs to find her room. The older woman turned her attention to Tommy. 

“ _ How many nights? _ ” The woman spoke but Tommy, not being fluent in Spanish, was caught off guard. 

“Huh?” 

“Oh, sorry. I was asking how many nights?” 

“How much for a week?” 

“You too?” She asked. 

Tommy shrugged and nodded, figuring she must’ve been referring to the woman he just saw. ‘So she was staying a week as well.’ 

“It’s $600 for a normal and $1200 for a suite.” 

Tommy didn’t have to think about it or better yet, didn’t really have the luxury to think about it. “Normal.” 

The woman nodded. “Let me go get your key and call up to make sure the room’s ready.” She then shuffled back to the backroom, leaving Tommy in the lobby alone with nothing but the faint sounds of music playing. 

‘What the fuck am I gonna tell him?’ He thought as he rubbed his temples. Tommy was a special case compared to everyone who worked for Sonny. Given their history, Tommy wasn’t someone who was scared of Sonny himself but more so annoyed by the temper tantrums he had when things didn’t go his way. Tommy was rarely on the unfortunate receiving end of those tantrums, instead, he was always the one that had to clean up whatever Sonny considered a mess. 

It was annoying but it paid the bills. Being considered Sonny’s  _ clean up man _ was one of the main reasons that Tommy had some doubt about Sonny being the one who set him up. Was he overexaggerating? Jumping to conclusions? Probably. But Tommy Vercetti knew that job was a setup. There was nothing Sonny could gain from taking Tommy out of the picture, he was already the Don. Surely, Sonny’s insecurity hadn’t fallen THAT much. 

There was no telling at this point in time, at least. All Tommy could do was wait everything out and see what unfolded, for someone to slip up. He was hoping it was going to be Harry or Lee that did it buuuuut...that’s not happening now, is it? 

Tommy entered his new shelter for the new few days...or several weeks. The place really wasn’t that shabby. Given the street it was on, it seemed only right that the room was decent. This part of Vice City seemed like a tourist attraction, especially with a beach right across the street. 

As much as he would like to enjoy the scenery, he had business to attend to. 

**()-()-()-()**

| _ Room Next Door _ | 

‘It’s not that bad I guess.’ Dallas thought. 

To be fair, she didn’t expect much from this place, especially with Carlito’s voice of approval. Dallas didn’t care if people called her high maintenance with condescension. She went through a lot of harsh shit to be able to do what she does, in her eyes: she deserved to be pampered. 

‘At least the lady was nice. And from the sounds of it, I might be able to get some free service from her son.’ The thought put a smirk on her face as she fell backward onto the bed. The ringing of the room’s phone brought the hitman out of her thoughts. ‘Must be Carlito.’ 

She picked up the phone and greeted the caller.“Room 102, how may I help you?” Dallas put on her best customer service voice. 

“Funny.” Carlito replied. “How’s the room? Told you it wasn’t all that bad.” 

“I expected nothing from your taste and I was still disappointed.” She joked. 

“Whatever~. Anyways, I’m calling you cause I got a small job lined up for you.” 

“Already? I thought you were visiting a girlfriend.” 

“I am but momma had apparently been spreading the word, under the table of course, and she found you a gig.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, tomorrow there’s a yacht party happening. You’ll be attending with your  _ special client _ .” 

“Why don’t I just  _ talk to them _ before we get to the party, then?” 

“Nah, this is special, you’ll like this. Guy’s name is Archie Fisher, he’s some big-time real estate agent. I’ll explain the fun part to you tomorrow when I pick you up to drop him off...wear something a sleazebag would like.” Carlito said nothing more, hanging up the phone.

Dallas chuckled. Most hitmen worked alone but when you work for an organization like the Montoya Clan, handlers were essential. It was important to maintain a cover, especially in this day and age. Law enforcement was getting better at finding criminals, not too much but enough that people had to cover their tracks with a little more effort. It was no issue with Dallas and Carlito though. They’ve been treating this gig as a spy movie for years, it was a game to them. That was the reason that  _ Momma _ considered them her favorites. That and the fact that Carlito and Dallas were actually blood-related to her. 

The sound of a loud crash coming from a room next door snapped Dallas out of her thoughts. She didn’t know what was happening in the other room but it wasn’t her business. She merely shook her head and went to find something “that a sleazebag would like” for her outing tomorrow. 

“Yacht party, huh? Been a while.” She spoke quietly, rummaging through her luggage. If she didn’t have anything here, she could always go shopping. 

The first thing she pulled was a tight-fitting and short hemmed  _ LaMe RaRa _ with a white-colored top and a gold skirt. As Dallas looked it over, she realized something. 

“Fuck...what type of sleazebag is he?” 

In her time doing this, she discovered that while they all end up being the same, they all had different tastes for specific reasons. For instance, she might wear tight-fitting business attire, one with a pencil skirt that had a tendency to rise up when luring in some gross business-type. They usually liked the fantasy of exerting dominance over a woman in their office. Probably a Barbara who denied their advances one too many times or a Laura who’d been outworking him in everything.

Sometimes they’d like a woman who appeared to be an airhead. Twirling a finger in her hair and just  _ so interested _ . Maybe they’d like someone more who appeared more introverted. The idea of turning out or being some shy bookish woman’s  _ first _ . There was a lot of tastes that Dallas uncovered, it was an interesting thing to observe. 

‘I should write a book when I retire, honestly.’ 

Next up was a black ruched up dress which Dallas held up to her face, examining it. 

“Comfy buuut...too much?” She threw the dress on the bed. “Maybe just wear a bikini. I don’t need to stand out, right? Damn, this is always the tough part. Maybe I’m looking for the wrong outfit.” 

She dug around in her bag again, this time pulling out a white bikini with a red anemone design decorating the right breast as well as the left side of the bikini bottoms. 

“Where is the other piece to this?” She asked, shaking her head and tossing it on the bed with the other outfits. She sighed. “One more time, if I find nothing, I’m going shopping.” 

The last outfit she pulled out was a black and white vintage-styled strapless swim dress. Looking over the swimsuit, a satisfied smile gradually grew on Dallas’ face before she let out a lazy chuckle. 

“Perfect...almost.” She threw the swimsuit onto the bed and casually declared, “I need a hat...and a wig.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter is done. When it comes to people speaking different languages, I’m going the using italics route. I saw this done in another story and I know it’s, like, really simple but I’m slow so I had a MASSIVE realization when I saw this done.   
> Of course, I’m going to indicate when these characters are speaking in a different language since I’m also using italics for emphasis. I’m enjoying this roll I’m on with posting stories.   
> (in reality, it’s just a bunch of a WIPs I’ve been sitting on for a few weeks now but we don’t need to focus on details like that)

**Author's Note:**

> Favorite thing about GTA side characters is that they’re always outlandish and wild and that’s basically what I went for with my OC. Also, I’m very upset that the man that Lance’s brother in Vice City is NOT the same man from Vice City Stories. I guess it can be chalked up to age buuuuut…..it’s not that much of a time skip from VC Stories to the main game soo….  
> I definitely had some inspiration for her from the darker aspects of the Toreador Clan from Vampire: The Masquerade. Seeing murder and the act of spilling another’s blood as an art form is a very low humanity Toreador vibe to have.


End file.
